The Art of Falling in Love
by RazorLike
Summary: It all started with some coffee, some smoke and two strangers -also strange to the world- discovering they had something in common. Chapter 2 is up, stay tuned for the rest to come! Rated "M" for language and future theme!
1. It all started with some Coffee

_**A/N: This will be the first chapter of what I hope to become a long, long story. So, I will ask of you, readers and co-authors to be patint. This is my first upload in a very long time (almost three years) and, althought I consider myself to be efficiently skilled in english, my grammar and vocabulary still suck. :P**_

 _ **This chapter serves as a prologue, so I think it quite necessary that you read it (since it will be the base of the story/plot) and, if possible, comment on it ^_^ (Also, the whole story is rated "M" for future chapters and language, adult themes and realistic adaptation. All of the above on a long-term. You won't find anything steamy in this chapter. I wanrend you!)**_

 _ **As always, I do not own Death Note, Matt or Mello.**_

* * *

 **"It all started with some coffee"**

"What can I get you?"

"A Fredo Espresso. Sweet."

"Right away…"

The waitress turned her conspicuous glare from the man to the bartender. He nodded in acceptance and the waitress shrugged and let the man be.

While waiting for his order to arrive, said man preferred to silently scan the small place – so not to his liking it was almost unbearable – and the staff. He knew he had made rather an impression to the few customers reluctantly sipping their drinks, and the waitress seemed baffled, talking quietly to the rest of the employees.

Explaining that this man entering the cafeteria wasn't her fault, maybe?

He wasn't much of an attention seeker, our man silently sitting there, but attention he would get wherever he went. Rather handsome he was – for a guy- or maybe you'd mistaken him for a transvestite. He used to wear his hair long a few weeks back, while among people who could see behind his mask; people he used to call friends.

But now his friends were not there, people stared at his blond mane a tad too much to his liking. His new haircut allowed his straight strands to gracefully graze the nape of his neck, forming a protective barrier around the angry scar on the left side of his face; a trait he won while skating very close to a rusty staircase, a few years back.

When he was still home.

In real time, Mello (that was our man's name), former amateur skater, now a student of arts at the local Art University, lightly scratched the scar right under his eyelid, waiting for his coffee. He stretched his hands above his head, yawned soundlessly and the eased his plain black t-shirt over his tight black jeans. His troop-decorated belt matched his black all-star shoes, each one laced with a differently colored lace. Under the table, Mello crossed his legs and fell back on his tiny, uncomfortable chair.

"Your coffee." Said the waitress and left a tall glass on the table; it was sweating to due to the September heat which could not be avoided even with the mild air-conditioning.

"Thank you" Mello said and fished his wallet from his backpack that was conveniently hanging from the back of his chair. He handed the bill to the waitress, noticing her awkwardness. Smirking knowingly, he took some change fro his jean's pocket and left it on the table, next to her awaiting hand. "For you, miss."

The woman arched a brow at the money ('Maybe it's not enough' Mello thought) and collect it with her long, square nails, polished a bright red. 'Anything else I can do for you?" she asked again, slightly more polite this time, but still staring at his face. Her eyes fell on his scar, then on his icy cold azure eyes; they flew and landed accusingly on his high cheekbones and small nose, then on his thin but well-defined lips.

"No" Mello replied, feeling his irritation growing under her thoroughly investigational look. "And, please, stop staring. It's not polite." Her sudden blushing a bright crimson color gave him a secret joy.

Mumbling a few words, the waitress withdrew, and Mello stared at the coffee. Beads of water slowly run down the length of the glass… too slowly…

They looked like tears to him.

Mello knew his looks were, with no doubt, weird. Were he a woman, no one would give a damn, no one would spare a second glance. But being a guy and at the same time looking femininely good, not only raised a few eyebrows or turned more than just a few heads. It made him a living target for mass discrimination, automatic ostracize…

…and the object of desire for a series of unconventional individuals.

"Thank God I'm pretty." Mello murmured and retrieved a sketching pad off his backpack. He slipped an inker from his pocket and rolled to a blank page. Giving another glance around him, he sought for something, anything, to capture his attention; something to put his mind in this special, creative trance.

Finding nothing, he huffed and turned his eyes to the glass again.

"It seems it's just you and me, then."

…

"I so, so need some caffeine…" whined the brunette, and matt sighed in annoyance. "Can't you get me some?"

The bench was meant for three, maybe four people, but the girl had scooted so unbelievably close to him he could count the pores on her nose; and it wasn't the most satisfying sight .

The bright sunlight –so rare for the usual gloomy September weather of London – burnt the back of his neck as he bent forward to loosen his shoelaces. The clarity around him –so different from the dim-lit room in the dormitory- hurt the back of his mind. But it was ever so rarely dim-lit or quiet these days…

'Blame her for that.' Matt thought and got a glimpse of her snuggling into the tiniest of spare room between their bodies.

"Maaattt…." She dragged, and rubbed her face against his neck. "Coffee!" she demanded, and Matt asked himself for the umpteenth time that week why had he even agreed to be her fuckbuddy. Of course, she preferred to call it "an open relationship" but…

He sighed, imagining a small, dark cloud raining misfortune down on him. "Okay, okay…" said he and stood, stretching under the merciless sunlight. Right across the bench stood a small café; the kind you knew you'd have to pay in gold just to set foot inside. Yet matt pinted at the store with his chin. "I'll be there." said and marched forwards, thankful to have regained some of his personal space back.

He crossed the street and, right before entering the café, he glanced back at the seated figure. The girl waved and his stomach twisted. He breathed heavily and climbed the two small steps; the cool air embraced him and the smell of freshly-brewed coffee engulfed him.

…

"Jee, you guys sure have the most expensive coffee in town!"

The half-funny, half-annoyed comment rung and echoed inside the rosy painted walls of the store. The customers turned, surprised and scandalized.

Mello tore his eyes from his half-finished sketch of the glass and glared questioningly at the newcomer. He saw red, and it wasn't just a figure of speech. A red t-shirt with black stripes, under a brownish-red, messy haircut, full of edges and soft locks was all he could see over his sketch-pad. He lowered it and a thin, almost slender body supported by a pair of long legs clad in loose jeans greeted him. The man wore loosely tied army boots on his feet, worn out; they must have been black once upon a time.

"Sir" addressed the man the waitress, although she obviously had no respect for him "please step out. You're disturbing the customers." she stated, as politely as she could. A mixture of annoyance and worry created wrinkles on his, otherwise, youthful face.

"But I've ordered a cup of coffee!" the man protested. "I'm not a beggar, I'll pay for it!"

Mello saw the irritation growing stronger on the woman's face, the same waitress he tipped not too long ago. Te cashier and the bartender were giving the man spiteful glares as the argument continued on, their eyes aiming his face and, occasionally, his clothing and boots. It was apparent they degraded him.

Man and store were, indeed, oceans apart. The newcomer, from what Mello could see, was a far cry from the rest of the clientele, raising a low murmur of commentary.

"Dude, just…" the man waved at the coffee "look, I'm sorry for commenting on your prices, okay? Just let me pay and I'll go." He tried to smile and sound convincing, but Mello could see how badly he was shaking.

And then he felt annoyed. Hell, he himself was being judged for the way he looked, had denied entrance more than once for the way he dressed. The scene playing before his eyes was a scene on repeat for the past few weeks of his everyday life. Shaking his head lightly, he stood and shoved his sketchpad in his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

He stepped closer to the arguing duo, now being the center of attention for the customers. "What's the fuss all about?" he asked, and two pairs of eyes fell on him; waitress and man, both flushed an angry, opened their mouths to explain.

"Is that enough to cover a take-away?" Mello turned at the waitress, handing a bill to her. She looked at him, speechless; throwing him poisoned darts with her eyes. "I thought so." Said Mello and grabbed the coffee. Turning to the man, he nodded towards the exit and, him in toe, paced away.

A few feet away from the store, while Mello's heart was still stomping from anger, the man dared talk. The pounding was so deafening, Mello almost missed the faint, breathy voice.

"Uh….Thank you.."

Mello stopped walking right before his foot touch the ground, and turned on his heels. With the corner of his eye, he could see the staff nodding, talking and commenting on the incident. It pissed him so much he wished he had a cigarette, although he loathed smoking. "Fuckers…" he snarled.

"Excuse me?!"

The surprised voice made Mello finally look at him; he was younger than he had previously thought, not a man at all. Maybe he was twenty, maybe a year older or two. Mello noted the many freckles thrown carelessly on his pale skin; surrounding his nose, on his arms, even on his neck. His eyes had grown the size of saucers, his pupils dilated, surrounded by his orbs; a fine shade of forest green, emerald and a tint of gold.

He also noticed a pair of goggles hanging around his neck. 'A strange attire if you don't live close to the coast' Mello thought, but pushed that thought to the back of his mind. "Mello" he said and offered the hand that was not holding the coffee.

"Matt. And I really hope you didn't just call me a fucker." The redhead replied and hesitantly took Mello's hand in his own. But he pulled it back quickly. Looking ashamed. "Sorry, my fingers are stained with charcoal."

Mello looked at his own hand and a tiny smirk crept up his face. A fine sheet of dust covered his palm. "You're an artist?" he asked, and matt stopped trying to wipe the charcoal from his hands.

"A trainee one." He mused "Actually, I'm an Art Student." And he took the coffee from Mello's hand, blinking it to his lips. He took a gulp and immediately shut his eyes and viciously bit down on the straw. "Yuck! I'm so sorry you had to pay for this! It's awful."

Mello laughed, trying to muffle it with his palm, and then coughed. "You really need coffee that bad?" Matt glared behind his back and sighed so heavily his whole chest heaved and fell.

"She does."

Mello looked across the road. A feminine figure was sitting on a bench, texting on her phone with vigor.

"I think she can wait for a while longer. Come on, I know a nice tea-house close by. They make really nice coffee." Mello smiled at his new friend baffled expression and how drastically it changed. The eagerness to go was so vivid it made his eyes shine. Together they took the nearest road to the main boulevard, and soon their ears were filled with the loud noise of moving cars and screaming pedestrians.

"So, Matt, you said you're an Art Student?" Mello asked a few moments later. He heard matt stumble on his feet, curse and then his red mop of hair appeared next to him.

"Yeah. First year." The quiet 'click' of a lighter followed a sharp smell of gas, and then a puff of gray-ish white smoke flew with the gentle breeze. Mello cringed his nose at the smell, but Matt's words made him smile.

"Then I think we'll be classmates. Colleagues. Call it as you wish, but there are not many Art Schools that I know off here in London." He turned his eyes to him, and they both nodded.

"Here we are." Mello said after a while. They had stopped out of a small building, a tiny teahouse. His windows were foggy, as if they'd never been cleaned up, and, barely visible through them, the old-fashioned chandelier created a feeling of old glory. "Don't judge it by its cover." Mello said when Matt's eyes fell on the glass and the frail woods supporting the roof.

"As if." Matt replied and stretched out a hand for Mello to shake. "Thank you for walking me here. Oh and…" he searched in his pocket and fished some change "That's for the coffee."

"nah, keep it. You need it more than I do" Mello said, regretting his joke the moment it fell from his lips. "I mean…I didn't mean t-"

No one means to, but they do. That's insulting, you know." Matt huffed and crossed his arms over his torso, glaring Mello so angrily the latter could feel the heat of the feeling scraping his skin. "I'm not that poor, I sure as hell can afford a coffee and" he gestured at his boots with a single finger "I know they look old, they are old, but I love them. Fucking Hell…" He stomped his foot on the pavement and greeted his teeth. "I don't look too fancy, but that's because I work my ass off."

Mello glared up at him and Matt x-raid him from head to toe. "I bet you haven't worked a day in your life and your parents pay for your studies." He spat, and Mello felt his cheeks flushing this time.

"Wrong all the way, actually." he said between clenched teeth and breathed heavily through his nose, trying to keep his head. 'My parents are dead."

Matt's body language immediately changed, his arms fell to his sides and a small, sad exhale parted his lips. "I'm… really sorry to hear that." He chewed on the end of his cigarette and stared at his feet "My mother passed away a month ago."

A pair of azure eyes fixed into forest green orbs, and a sad smile curved Mello's lips downwards. "I'm really sorry, Matt." he simply said, his voice giving his sadness away. He swallowed hard, wishing he had a cigarette too, although he hated the scent of smoke.

"No" Matt said, and the tip of his boot scraped the pavement as he took a step closer to the blond. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I said such horrible things." he made a noise in his chest, between a cough and a huff. "I am a fucker, after all."

They both smiled awkwardly and glared away from each other, then stared back at the old, wooden door with the metallic handle. The inviting dim light from the inside was too tempting.

"Say, how about I make it up to you?" Matt said, and then blushed. Damn had it sound like a date proposal! But Mello smiled a genuine smile this time, and nodded, tacking some locks behind his ear, uncovering the scar that covered almost half his face. Matt's eyes fell on it and widened.

"Wow. You need to tell me about this" he whistled, throwing his cigarette on the street next to him. He put his hand around the handle, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"What of your friend?"

The question brought him back to the sad reality of his life, his shared dormitory room. And then he glared at the hand on his shoulder.

"She can wait."

The happy jingle of a bell welcomed them as he pushed the door open; the sweet, rich aroma of tea embraced them as they entered the "Golden Cup"

* * *

 _ **I think you know what to do :)**_

 _ **Oh...for the residents of London and all foreign countires... I don't know if you serve Fredo Espresso or Fredo Cappuccino. In my country we do, but I felt I should explain how I'm not familliar with coffe in outher countires, so..yeah. O_O (I don't mean to offend you.)**_

 _ **Until my next chapter,**_

 _ **xxx**_

 _ **RazorLike**_


	2. The Royal Pillow

_**Second chapter! I know, it's been too long –again- but hey… I never (ever) said I'm punctual.**_

 _ **I really hope this one will eventually cover the basics so I can finally move on with the plot…**_

 _ **Enjoy, please.**_

* * *

 **"The Royal Pillow"**

The sun was already starting to set behind the buildings, but inside the Golden Cup Mello and Matt were enjoying what seemed to be the third cup of flavored tea, sharing summaries of their lives as well as spoonfuls of honey. Only when Matt's tongue met with the empty bottom of his cup did he realize they had spent the entire afternoon sitting on the old-fashioned, wooden chairs of the teahouse.

"Look at the time!" he pointed at the clock, pinned on the wall above an old porcelain set of flower-decorated teacups. The hands were shakily moving towards the small number _"4"_.

"Shit!" Mello cursed and slapped his forehead. "I totally forgot _her_!"

Matt raised a brow at him and chuckled. "I stood my roommate up too. Is yours really _that_ bad?"

Mello smirked and his hair fell on the side of his face to playfully cover his left eye and the scar running around and below it. Matt noticed how the golden-tinted bistro-like windows guided the light on his new friend's face, making it glow with half a dozen colors. His tongue running over his teeth brought him back to reality as Mello winced. "You have no idea…". Fingers slowly caressing the lips of his teacup, he put it on the table. "But she's totally worth it." Mello mused and chuckled, still tasting the last few drops of orange-flavored tea on his palate.

"You're a lucky man." Matt whimpered at the thought of his roommate – who was trying to also be his companion. Last time he had stood her up, she had locked the door to his room and he had to spend the night in the bathtub.

"Indeed I am" the blond answered and left the bill on the table. "Wanna come with me? Virginia would love to meet the man who delayed me so much." He laughed a lighthearted laughter and his eyes, smiling, fell on Matt, whose mood immediately changed.

"Sure, if I'm no bother!" suddenly he felt like a child invited to a party. He wouldn't admit, but he was curious to meet that "Virginia" girl Mello looked so happy talking about, anticipating to be with. As Mello stood, Matt watched his figure stretching a bit taller than his, his eyes scanning the room, so unfitting and unsettling but at the same time so "there" as he would never be. He liked this man, as easy-going and acceptant as he was. It was the first time in months Matt felt relaxed around someone since he had left home.

Maybe, if had tried to give it more thought then, he would have realised Mello was the reason as to why he was feeling _at home_. BUt Matt was not the type of man to think much; he liked acting over thinking and, sometimes, acting _without_ thinking.

As the door shut behind his back, a gentle breeze swept away the scent of tea and the sound of the tiny bell, bringing forth the disturbing sound of cars passing by.

"How…how is she like?" Matt asked fishing in his pocket for cigarettes. He tried to create he picture in his mind, but he knew nothing of Mello's taste in women. What would he deem as attractive? _'Some six foot five blonde model, I guess.'_ he bitterly thought, and the sharp smell of his lighter's gas pierced through his nose. Taking in the nicotine, he glanced towards Mello, walking beside him; his long legs, his toned arms. He guessed a firm torso under the simple t-shirt. Despite first impressions, Mello was not girly at all… _'Especially if you take a loot at his-'_ Matt cut off his thought as his cheeks blushed. He has been unconsciously eying Mello's lightly swaying hips.

"Oh, she's gorgeous…" His voice snapped Matt out of his daze, and he huffed.

" _Of course_ she is."

 **…**

"So, how do you like her?"

"She's… not what I expected."

Matt gave another look at Virginia, seated on Mello's lap, right next to him on the couch. She licked her lips –those lips that always looked as if curved in a mocking smirk- and purred despite his hand on her back.

"She's better, I hope." Mello whispered and ran a single finger along Virginia's spine. The cat closed her eyes, her ears fell flat on her head, and Matt felt weirdly relieved that she wasn't but a few inches tall. The end of her tail was chopped off, as if someone had chewed on it; the top half of her left ear as well, something Matt thought to be oddly fitting to her owner.

"Far, far better, actually!" Matt gave a huge sigh, and Virginia cracked a shiny yellow eye and fixed it on him. The redhead gulped and fell back on the couch; the cushions hissed.

"I rescued her half a year ago from a cat fight." Mello smiled down at the cat, and then looked up at Matt, whose heart flattered. Seeing him so happy made him-

"…Matt?"

"Y-yeah?" Matt blinked twice, staring into a pair of blue orbs. "I'm listening."

Mello smirked and his fingers lingered on Virginia's head, who purred and sneezed lightly.

" _Of course_ you are."

 **…**

"Can you open the door so we can at least talk?"

The very angry redhead leaned against the wooden door and tried to identify what of his belongings was being crushed, smashed and broken under thick heels.

"Go to Hell!"

Matt growled a curse and lightly pressed his forehead against the cool wood.

"For fuck's sake! It's my apartment!" he yelled, and heard something made out of glass crash against the wall and a hysterical laughter.

"I've been paying for it the past few months, you penniless prick!"

"Open the _fucking_ door" Matt screamed and his fist collided with the door.

"You can go shove your pity-fucks up to that blonde's _ass_!"

Matt cringed and his nails scraped the frame. "It's a _he_ " he barked.

The fuss and the crushing seized as if surprise stopped her hand mid-breaking. "You dumped me for a _man_?" Her voice dropped to a deadly hiss, muffled by the wood and the concrete walls, but still Matt pictured venom dripping from her tongue. He banged his head against the door and whined.

"You've got it all wrong, damn it!"

A dull thud shook the door as if a knife had been thrown on it. Matt was almost sure that was the case.

"Go to your precious blond if you wanna spend the night indoors, you faggot!"

And Matt cringed for the umpteenth time for that day.

 **…**

Mello's dreams were hasty that night. Hasty, hazy and hot. Maybe it was for Virginia was curled in a ball of fur on his chest that he had been sweating the entire night. Maybe it was for his dreams and them alone, filled with fire and red colors; the red locks of a shadowy figure curling between his fingers. A pair of red lips, dripping blood, dragging along his neckline.

But his dreams had a dull, pompous echo of thundering drums, as if demons were dancing in the pits of Hell. A continuity of sharp claspings of heavy, clawed fingers against wood…

A banging that was coming closer and closer, giving a bewildered tempo to his heart that rushed on and on until-

 _"Shit!"_

Breathless, panting, he jolted and jumped in his bed. An angry meowing escaped Virginia's lips and she hopped down on the floor, hissing at the blond. Mello sat up and threw the sheets to the side, still dizzy. The thundering of his heart continued, as well as the haunting echoes of the drums from Hell.

Only it was originating from his front door, and not from the pits of Hell.

"What the…" Mello ran a hand through his hair and growled deep in his throat when his feet met with the tiles. He hated the unsettling feeling of the cool floor against his toes. "I'm coming!" he screamed towards the door, and the banging seized.

Still swearing as soundlessly as he could, with the furry ball that was Virginia nuzzling and rubbing between, on and within his bare calves, he managed to slip in a pair of boxers (which were, to his dismay, tartan red) and rushed to the door.

"If you're the pizza boy, don't expect me to pay you! I ordered that pizza _yesterday_!" Mello said as he unlocked and opened the door. But on his doorstep stood a slender man with the most desperate eyes he'd ever seen; a far cry from any pizza boy you would want to see in the middle of the night, even in one of those extremely low-budget porn movies.

"I bring no pizza, but I could sure use some money right now, thanks."

 **…**

Half an hour later, when almost everything had been explained over a half empty bottle of cheap beer, Matt sighed, huffed and puffed his cigarette. Virginia, fond of the smoke, was trying to chase the scented breaths and rings of nicotine, occasionally darting her tongue out to taste them.

Mello, on the other side, who hated the taste, scent and sight of smoke, glared the redhead and his extractions with a hint of annoyance. He crossed his arms on his chest and eyed Matt. The occasion called for a t-shirt rather than a toast, but he could still feel the flames of his dreams licking his body, and now his temperature was rising, as if he had been sun-kissed. "So" he said "she basically threw you out of your apartment."

"Actually" Matt retorted "She had been paying for it for the past…hmmm…" he used his fingers to count, glaring at the ceiling "…two and a half months." He finished, and gave Mello a small, sad smile. "She owns the place, if I want to be fair. Which I don't." Underlining his sentence with another gulp of beer, he apologetically looked at Mello, arms still crossed on his bare chest. Not only had he woken him up, he has also been drinking his beer. "I'm sorry.. I'll be off your back in a while. It's late, and you must have been sleeping…" he awkwardly glared the blond up and down, from his messy hair, the bags under his eyes, to his half naked body and the surprisingly colorful underwear.

Maybe it was the beer, but he welcomed a strange tingling of warmth caressing his fingers and the tip of his nose. Mello had rushed to the door almost naked.

 _Almost_ , if it hadn't been for the tartan red pair of boxers…

While Matt was trying to erase the tartan pair of boxers from his mind and, if possible, from his vision, Mello cared not for the beer, the inconvenience or the time of the visit. He could feel the wheels of his mind spinning, counting and processing. Matt needed a place to crush, possibly not for just the night, and he was the only one he knew in London. He gathered it must have been hard for him, a proud human being (although both of the above were under question) running around, practically homeless. And it would be even harder on his pride to ask for accommodations.

 _'One plus one equals two, indeed…'_ Mello thought and hoped he wouldn't regret what he was about to say anytime soon.

"You can stay here." Mello offered, covering his eyes with his hand. "I just hope you don't mind sleeping on the couch…" he yawned and then laughed. "Oh boy… this is going to be _so much fun_."

Matt looked up to him, a mixture of relief and doubt slowly taking over his features. "Are you sure? We just met!" he said, hoping deep inside that Mello wouldn't mind too much. They were just going to share the apartment, after all; and not for long. In his mind, he was already planning to gather up some money and…and…

"Don't sweat it. It'll be fine as long as you get along with her." Mello smiled and mused at Virginia who was now trying to climb up Matt's worn out jeans. "She's the queen here."

The queen purred and jumped, settling on the redhead's lap and started massaging his knees to make herself comfortable with an approving twinkle of her chopped-off ear .

"I think" Matt said in a serious tone "she made it very clear she's in need of a new royal pillow…"

 **…**

That night was one of the many to come, although neither of them knew. They settled on the couch with Virginia as their guard and company for the night, peering through the darkness of the room. After another two good rounds of beer, Matt fell asleep blissful and ignorant of Mello's attempts to sleep seated, almost naked and in the presence of another male snoring lightly a few inches away from his crotch.

By the daybreak, Mello had made a few notes to himself on moving the drinking on his bed for more space and comfort. He was sure his neck and spine would thank him in advance.

* * *

 _ **Notice the dots? I love adding dots here and there! They signify the change of place and time in my stories! Keep that in mind and you will never have to wonder again!**_

 _ **Okay, this is getting seriously funny for me. I'm starting to like this story.**_

 _ **Check for updates within the next week! Now my semester exams are over I have lots of time (actually no, for I'm working, but oh well…)**_

 _ **Until my next chapter,**_

 _ **xxx**_

 _ **RazorLike**_


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